Two and a Half Years of Waiting, One Club's Dominance: Montaño's Return and Mexico's Quietly Shifting Strategy

On a September 2026 evening, playing for Cruz Azul, Andrés Montaño played a pass that most people in the stadium would have forgotten. Half a ball, half a gesture—a pass that cuts through two lines of defence but doesn't turn into a goal. Those passes don't make the scoresheet, but they lodge in a coach's eye. Something like that lodged in Rafael Márquez's eye. And that is why, after nearly two and a half years, Montaño's name returned to Mexico's national team list—for the CONCACAF Nations League quarterfinal against Jamaica.

This is a selection story, and like all selection stories, it arrives wrapped in several narratives. But if you simply read the list and move on, you miss what is most interesting about this call-up—one club, Cruz Azul, supplied three players to this single squad. Montaño, Erik Lira and Jesús Orozco Chiquete. This is not coincidence. It is a pattern, and patterns always come at a price.

Cruz Azul's shadow, Mexico's ground

Cruz Azul's standing in Liga MX needs no introduction. It is among the clubs with history, with crowds, with expectations. But sending three players to a national team list is not just the result of good form. It is also a structural signal that Mexico's coaching staff is valuing club-level chemistry.

Márquez did not choose Montaño simply because he is in form. He chose him because he understands what a gifted "number 10" means for a national team—especially when you have only a short international window and need to build cohesion immediately. The role Montaño plays at Cruz Azul is the role he can be given in the national team. This is an inference, but a logical one.

Similarly, Erik Lira's presence completes the picture. Lira is the deeper player who can give Montaño the freedom to play forward. One club's pair—one in a holding role, one in a creative role—is no accident. It is a small strategic shortcut that coaches often take when time is short and room for compromise is limited.

But there is a third name that complicates this story—Jesús Orozco Chiquete. Selecting a player returning from an ankle injury for a two-legged quarterfinal is a risky decision. The report does not state whether he is fully fit or being eased back. That is a question only training sessions and team medical reports will answer—and if things go wrong, the burden will fall on Cruz Azul.

Two and a half years of silence and another chance

There is a turn in Montaño's story that doesn't get headline space. In 2026, he was removed from Mexico's final squad list. That is an experience that leaves a deep mark on any player's mind—especially when he has already knocked on the national team's door. And now, nearly two and a half years later, he is returning.

But there is a factual tangle here that cannot be ignored. If he played for Mexico in 2026, the "two and a half year" gap does not fit the arithmetic. This is an internal contradiction that raises questions about the report's precision. Perhaps the gap is a little over a year, or perhaps the 2026 entry was a friendly that the writer mistakenly included in the national team list. But as a reader, and as a journalist who has spent 24 years watching this game, I would say: when a report does not match its own facts, it is fair to question its other claims too.

This does not mean Montaño's return is insignificant. Rather, it means the story of this return needs to be examined more deeply. National team coaches generally do not recall players who have been out for a long time unless there is a solid reason at club level. In Montaño's case, that reason is Cruz Azul's form. But the question is: is that form strong enough to compensate for a two-and-a-half-year absence? The report offers no data. No goals, no assists, no xG—nothing.

The burden of the number 10 and the truth of modern football

The role of the "number 10" in modern football is changing rapidly. The old-fashioned enganche—the player who stands in the middle, demands the ball, and weaves magic—is nearly extinct. Today's "number 10" must play as an interior attacking midfielder in a 4-3-3 or 4-2-3-1, with defensive duties and the pace to contribute in transition.

What Montaño's role at Cruz Azul actually is, the report does not say. But it is clear he is a creator—a player who moves the ball forward, who gives direction to his team's attack. In the national team context, that role becomes even more important, because you don't have the weeks of training you have at club level. You need players who already know each other.

This is why the Lira-Montaño pairing makes sense. Lira sits deep and wins the ball; Montaño pushes forward and turns it into creativity. For a national team coach, this is a small piece of a ready-made machine that he only needs to connect, not build from scratch.

But here is a counter-intuitive point I would highlight based on my 24 years of experience: club-based selection is not always beneficial. When you pick three players from the same club, you create a mini-block in the national team dressing room. This is usually good for cohesion, but it has another side—it concentrates minutes and risk on those players. If injury strikes, one club suffers three times over.

Against Jamaica, leaning on history

On the CONCACAF ladder, Mexico has always been near the top. Jamaica is a strong opponent, but structurally Mexico holds the heavier end. This report does not go beyond that analysis—no form guide, no head-to-head record, no squad-depth analysis. And perhaps that is the report's biggest shortcoming.

But if we look beyond the available information, one thing is clear: this series against Jamaica is not just a quarterfinal for Mexico. It is a test for players searching for their place in the national team. For Montaño, it is another chance—perhaps not the last, but an important one. If he performs well across these two legs, it will prove Márquez's decision right. If not, questions will arise—was this a sentimental selection?

And this is where public opinion pressure comes into play. Mexican media and fans form opinions about national team selections very quickly. A return after a long absence is always a risky move—if it succeeds, the coach's foresight is proven; if not, it becomes the label of a "sentimental" selection.

In the eyes of the transfer market

This is a selection story, not a transfer story. But in football, everything is connected. A return to the national team means increased visibility. And visibility means increased market value. If Montaño plays well against Jamaica, it can become a strong negotiating tool for his agent—whether for a contract renewal or an offer from an external club.

For Cruz Azul, too, this is a positive signal. Having three players in the national team shows the club is doing the work of developing talent. It can become a selling point in future recruitment—"come to us, and the path to the national team opens." In Liga MX, where competition with MLS and European clubs is intense, this is a small but real advantage.

But there is another truth of the transfer market that I know from experience: the market counts bodies; the pitch remembers names. A return to the national team can put a name back in the headlines, but the real value is what is proven on the pitch. If Montaño gets a chance to play against Jamaica and takes it, this story can change. If not, it will remain just another selection that is forgotten.

A question hidden behind every selection

Every national team list is a small book with many stories written inside. Some stories are about form, some about loyalty, and some about pure necessity. Montaño's story is a blend of all three—form, an old wound (being dropped from the national team), and a need (a creator against Jamaica).

But the real question is not whether Montaño has returned. The real question is: is Mexico's national team moving toward a strategy where club-based pairings and ready-made combinations are being stitched into the national team fabric? If so, it is an interesting experiment—and its results will show not just in two matches against Jamaica, but in the months to come.

I once wrote in Rostov that stadiums are temporary homes for people who need one. A national team list is something similar—a temporary home where some players stay forever, some return, and some are just guests for a night. Montaño is standing at that door right now, from which he can come in or go out. And that decision will depend not just on his feet, but on Márquez's patience.

The next time Mexico's list comes out, don't just read the names. Look at which club they come from. Because sometimes the pattern speaks louder than the list—and the pattern is what tells you which direction the team is heading.